by Meg Xuemei X
Lucienne settled in a vacant chair across from Duncan. Someone brought her black coffee, and she nodded a thank you.
Her relief at seeing Duncan gave way to anger as she regarded his bruised face, split lips, and broken nose. One of his eyes was so swollen that he could barely open it.
“They tortured you?” she asked.
“Blazek’s gift,” said Duncan.
“He’ll pay for that,” Finley said.
“Tell me what happened,” Lucienne said.
“After I was taken captive, the fanatics in the Sealers Brotherhood wanted to shoot me to avenge their fellow devotees,” Duncan said. “Blazek stopped them, telling them I was one of your elite guards. They’d have more fun keeping me alive a little longer. Then, he used my face for a punching bag.” His eyes burned with hatred. “And humiliated me with his vile jokes. His fan boys loved every minute of it.”
It was no secret that Vladimir excelled at riling up his opponents.
“He also insulted you,” Duncan said. “I wouldn’t want to repeat it. He kept boasting about his superstar status, saying that the twelve elders gave him high-level clearance.”
“Twelve elders?” Lucienne leaned forward in her chair.
Duncan nodded. “He said twelve of them.”
“The Sealers practice traditional hierarchy,” Kian said. “If Vladimir mentioned twelve elders, then for sure he’s been initiated into the Sealers Brotherhood.”
So Vladimir was with the Sealers through and through. Lucienne had pictured her heart shattering into pieces, but she felt only numb. Her eyes glanced over the painting of horseback hunting on the wall. She remembered a time when she was nine years old hunting with Kian. She made her first kill, a red fox. Jed intended to raise her as a predator, but she never enjoyed hunting.
However, she’d have to hunt Vladimir. He hated her to the bones for one kiss she shared with Ashburn. Someone once said, “Heaven has no rage like love to hatred turned, nor hell a fury like a woman scorned.” A man scorned was even worse.
Lucienne tore her gaze from the painting. She had a sudden thought, like faint light bleeding through a thick curtain. Duncan didn’t have any serious injuries. The bloody face and broken nose were for show. And how could Duncan, tied up and heavily guarded, escape? Vladimir was a notorious hothead and vain to his core, but he was also an unquestionably strategic warrior with a cautious and calculating side.
Something didn’t add up. Lucienne traded a look with Kian, who sat on an admiral chair in the corner.
“I threw some insults at him,” Duncan said. “One of his brutes begged Vladimir to let him shoot me, but Blazek said there was a fate worse than death. He also didn’t let his dogs do the beating. He did it all. When he broke my nose, he said he’d break every one of Kian’s men, and then come for our Siren. He’d let the bulldog Kian watch.”
Lucienne glanced at the men. Their fists were balled. Rage burned red in their eyes, except Kian. She nodded for Duncan to continue.
“He said the strike would come sooner than we expect. The Sealers’ army would arrive at our door with some kind of nerve tear to dethrone you. I think they’re going to use chemical weapons on us.”
“Nexus Tear,” Kian said, his sapphire eyes hardening to orbs of ice. Worry lines deepened on his ruggedly handsome face.
Lucienne knew how badly that weapon unsettled Kian, especially since he knew her recent symptoms—eating
disorder, loss of appetite, sleeplessness, and nightly cold sweat—thanks to Aida’s big mouth. Kian ordered Dr. Wren to do a full physical on her despite her protests. Dr. Wren didn’t find anything out of ordinary, which only made Kian more paranoid.
Kian wasn’t wrong.
Her Siren’s mark had a sense of foreboding, knowing a powerful weapon had been activated. This terrible feeling—something inside had been taken from her—had been haunting her.
“Nexus Tear—that’s the name.” Duncan nodded. “Blazek couldn’t stop bragging about it, saying everything was activated, and so was this ancient weapon, until his second-in-command warned him that Nexus Tear was classified. Vladimir only laughed and said I wouldn’t live to see the light of day. He was wrong.”
Why did that traitor so desperately want her to know about this weapon, first through the messenger, then through Duncan? He constantly bit into the word ‘activated.’ Only Kian, Vladimir, Ziyi and she knew activating the Eye of Time had caused a chain of reactions.
“Did the Sealers interrogate you on our new discoveries, like the Eye of Time, or Nirvana?” Lucienne asked.
“No,” Duncan said. “I believe Blazek told them everything already. After he had beaten me, he gave orders to have me taken to the elders in international waters.”
International waters. Vladimir was giving Duncan the Sealers’ headquarters location.
Ziyi was right. Her enemies were on a submarine. Lucienne exchanged another look with Kian. It seemed Vladimir hadn’t told the Sealers about her best-kept secret. Was he trying to protect her, or intending to hold back the information and use it later to climb higher in the Sealers’ rank?
“Tell me how you managed to escape,” she ordered. She needed to figure out how Vladimir could let Duncan slip away.
“They stuffed me in the back of a van, a hood over my head, after Blazek personally tied my hands behind my back,” Duncan said. “We were on the road for over two hours. I couldn’t be sure, but there were at least two more cars escorting the van. Blazek was talking about using truth serum on me and making vulgar jokes. Then gunfire blasted all around us. The van halted to a screech. ‘We’re being ambushed by Kian McQuillen and his men,’ Blazek shouted. ‘If we catch that nasty bulldog, the reward—’”
“They weren’t my men,” Kian said. “We were still searching for you.”
“Who were they then?” Finley asked. “Who wants the Sealers more than us?”
“Indeed,” Kian said.
“The rear window shattered and shards fell all over my body,” Duncan said. “Blazek grabbed me and dragged me from the seat while he was still shouting, ‘They’re using missiles on us. I’ll skin that mean son of a… McQuillen!” He even mimicked Vladimir’s voice right to the very pitch.
The officers looked enraged. Pleased with the effect, Duncan stole a glance at Kian with his good eye.
“Get to the point,” Kian said. “You don’t need to repeat every word Blazek said.”
“But Lucia said she wanted every detail,” Duncan protested.
“On how you got away from the militants,” Kian said. “Not on every damn melodrama!”
“But it was a drastic situation,” Duncan said, then over Kian’s glare, he surrendered with an apologetic nod. “I was thrown to the ground. I heard explosions everywhere, and I lost my hearing for a moment. The van beside me must have caught fire. The heat was terrible. Then I was towed away from it and left alone. I tried to crawl away. I didn’t hear Blazek anymore. He could have been hit by a bullet, or killed by the explosion.”
Had Vladimir been hurt or killed? Lucienne’s heart thumped traitorously in her chest. He was a dagger in her heart. Why did she feel ice travelling through her veins when the knife was removed?
“Someone pulled me up and hauled me to run,” Duncan said. “A few minutes later, I was in the woods. My rescuer never made a sound the whole time. And then I was pushed onto the ground, my mouth pressing against dirt and grass, the hood still over my head. He’s going to execute me, I thought. But why go through all the trouble getting me away from the crossfire?”
The men in the room nodded.
“But there was no gun sticking against the back of my skull,” Duncan said. “Instead, the mysterious man went to untie the rope.” He paused to exhale. “He didn’t completely untie me; he only loosened the knots a little. Then he kicked me down the slope. My muscles were sore, but I had no time to worry about—”
“Skip the feelings, Duncan.” Kian couldn’t take it anymore. “It’s time to unlearn Bl
azek’s penchant for drama that you picked up so fast.”
“Yes, sir,” Duncan said. “It might take some time getting it out of my system. Blazek is an expert at doing damage—” He gave Kian another apologetic look with his good eye. “I immediately worked on the rope.” Lucienne eyed the red mark and bruises on his wrists. “As soon as it got off, I pulled off the hood and tore the tape off my mouth. My rescuer was gone. I ran in the opposite direction of the shooting.” He scanned the warriors in the room. “Of course, I thought of going back to the rescue team to fight with them, but I was a liability without a weapon. And if I were to be recaptured by the Sealers’ militants, then all the purpose of freeing me would be for nothing.” He blew out a breath. “So I made a hard decision and abandoned the team.”
“You made the right decision,” Lucienne said.
Duncan had called Kian’s direct line from a phone booth in Los Mochis, Mexico. Kian arranged for operatives in Mexico City to snatch Duncan. When Kian and his team arrived at the ambush site, they found only wreckage of cars and a van and Mexican police milling around the scene.
“I came back alive,” Duncan said, reaching for his coffee on the vintage oak table and taking a gulp.
Everyone in the room started talking.
Oliver raised a hand in the air, and Kian gave a nod. “With their technology,” Oliver shouted to be heard, “the Sealers could have used Scottsdale handcuffs on Duncan. Not only can they deliver serious electric shocks, but they’re designed with location sensing devices to recapture escaped prisoners.”
“You’d rather I am recaptured?” Duncan asked.
“No,” Oliver said. “I just think the Sealers would be smarter.” He turned to Kian, eager to impress him. “I studied the file on Blazek. He suggested you let our operatives use Scottsdale cuffs among other devices.”
“Blazek is all for fancy toys,” one of Kian’s men said.
“That’s exactly my point.” Oliver smiled. “Blazek must have those handcuffs, but he went for old-school rope. Why?”
A realization showed on Duncan’s face. “Blazek is a cocky bastard, but he’s never sloppy.”
“Blazek killed six of our men and women, and I barely made it,” Finley said, his voice hard. “He slaughtered three field agents when he ambushed you, and he was shipping you to the elders for more torment and your death.”
Lucienne understood Finley’s hatred. The burns across his left cheek would always remind him of what he had lost. But Vladimir didn’t exactly kill those three agents. They died in exchanging fire with the Sealers militia. He let Duncan escape. Was the sacrifice of her other agents collateral damage?
Lucienne looked at Kian. “Can they trace Duncan?”
“The Mexico team checked him when they picked him up,” Kian said. “There’s no electronic device in him. He’s clean.”
Relief replaced the ache in Lucienne’s chest. She was sure the mysterious rescuer could only be Vladimir. He was alive. But even though he let Duncan go, he was still a traitor. Or was he?
“That’s all I need to know for now,” she said. “Go rest, Duncan. You’ve done well.”
“I want to be in the next team that hunts him down,” Duncan said, rising to his feet. “He broke my nose, and I must return the favor.”
“Count me in,” Finley said.
All the warriors volunteered zealously to go after Vladimir. Other than Lucienne’s new guards, almost all of the men in the room had crossed paths with Vladimir, and many of them had suffered his derision.
“I want Vladimir Blazek alive,” Lucienne said, letting her Siren’s power roll off her. “Anyone who kills him will suffer severe consequences.” From the warriors’ looks, she knew they felt her power. She then dismissed the men.
Kian regarded Lucienne when they were alone. Even though he knew how broken she was, there was no pity, only understanding, in his eyes.
For a moment, Lucienne only wanted to hurl herself into his arms and cry her heart out. But she wouldn’t. On the contrary, she would fight him, no matter how hard he’d try to persuade her that she had responsibilities to her people.
The desire to see Vladimir hadn’t faded. It burned brighter. She must confront him and give him a chance to look in her face and tell her how much he hated her. She would even give him an opportunity to demand her blood. She would not cower in Sphinxes.
Jed wouldn’t have approved of her actions if he were alive. Her grandfather was all for cold calculation when it came to bringing down their enemies. Even when he took the bullets for her, it was a reckoning plan. He knew his time was up, so he gave his heir the opening she needed.
She was good at calculating, too, but sometimes, as Jed put it—her Russian blood, hotter than fire, dominated her.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Something was terribly wrong. Lucienne felt it in her blood. Maybe it was her nerves. She would meet Vladimir soon. She would smoke him out.
After she won the fight with Kian, he assembled an elite team. They would find Vladimir for her. He made her promise that she wouldn’t interfere with the operation. “I won’t let your rushing hormones jeopardize the mission,” he had said.
Svein Enberg, the former Royal Norwegian Navy Kommandør, now Admiral of Sphinxes’ naval force, would supervise daily affairs in Sphinxes in the absence of Kian and Lucienne.
She had met Admiral Enberg before she was crowned Siren. She liked him. Jed told her that the Sirens’ influence reached the corners of the earth over the centuries. When the Siren summoned the services of their men, they would respond. Lucienne had pried into the admiral’s mind once. He was a hard-core loyalist.
Before she journeyed out, Lucienne went to see Ashburn.
The window to his room at the castle’s east tower was open. She knew most of the time he entered through the window since Spike could fly in and out easily.
Lucienne scurried up the stone steps toward Ashburn’s suite. She knocked on the door but received no response. The sense of wrongness she felt earlier returned. She pulled out her encrypted phone.
“Ash’s off the grid,” Ziyi answered on the other end. “Dragonfly is still searching.”
“It won’t find him if he doesn’t want to be found,” Lucienne said, knowing there was only one place where no one could track him—the Rabbit Hole.
“I thought Ash was with Oliver,” Ziyi said. “Isn’t that guard assigned to him?”
The way Ziyi said Ash’s name suggested the two were close. Lucienne wondered how close, and if Ash enjoyed the pretty Chinese girl’s flirtation. She soon pushed the petty thought out of her mind.
When Oliver reported, he said Ashburn hadn’t returned since two days ago. Before Lucienne could reproach him for his negligence, Ziyi called back, “He had dinner with his parents two nights ago. After that, he visited Violet. And after that, he blocked Dragonfly.”
And he had evaded her soldiers and his own people.
“Did Violet leave with him?” Chunks of ices sank in Lucienne’s stomach. Was it jealousy, worry, insecurity, or all?
“No, only Ash,” Ziyi said.
S.I.D. hadn’t yet confirmed whether Vladimir told the Sealers about Nirvana and Ashburn.
“If the world sees a climate-controlled town hidden in Alaska in plain sight, they’ll dig,” Lucienne had told Kian. “They’ll know the natives aren’t the ones who built a place ahead of our time.” She remembered that Ashburn’s mother once told her, “The gods built this kingdom. The gods used to live among our ancestors.”
Kian then had stationed troops in Nirvana. Two soldiers had been assigned to protect Ashburn’s parents and Violet. Lucienne didn’t want Ashburn to look over his shoulder worrying about his family and friend.
So she believed that Ashburn’s returning to Nirvana had nothing to do with his parents’ safety. He wouldn’t leave them behind if that were the case. But he had never vanished like this. Not since he came to Sphinxes.
Something had happened to him.
Lucienn
e felt her hands turning cold. That was why she’d been feeling antsy these past two days. Ashburn and she were connected. If something went awry with him, she would sense it.
When she arrived at the Sphinxes’ air force base, Kian and his teams were waiting for her. She stepped off the jeep and headed toward Flame III instead of Black Lightning Seven.
Flame III was one of Sphinxes’ newly acquired jets. It could fly long distances at supersonic speed, avoid nearly
all types of radar detection, and shoot down enemy cruise missiles. It was also equipped with blood transfusion supplies for Lucienne.
“What’s going on, Lucia?” Kian called from BL7.
“I’m going to Nirvana. Ashburn is missing,” she said. “I’ll join you later.”
“We can send Oliver and the others to retrieve him,” Kian said.
“Yes, but only I can bring him back.”
“Lucia—”
“The town hasn’t been compromised. We have troops there,” she said. “Besides, the team with me is more than capable.” She entered Flame III and ordered the pilot, “Change your flight plan.”
~
Flame III landed in front of Ghost House under the waxing moon. The auto-light in Nirvana was off, indicating that Ashburn wasn’t around to provide light for the town.
Lucienne stepped out of the plane after her warriors secured the area.
Finley, who had requested a transfer to Sphinxes, was leading the team. The first team fanned out around the structure that looked like a half hexagon resting atop a vast bird’s nest.
Lucienne treaded toward the massive metal door, which stood open.
The second team shone their flashlights into the dark arena, their rifles thrust before them. If they were unsettled by the avant-garde complex, they didn’t show it. They remained alert.
“It smells like a trap.” Marloes strolled beside Lucienne, her pistol leveled in front of her.
“Ash must have left the door open in a hurry,” Lucienne said. “This is his playground. The natives fear the place and never come near it.”
